Death's Manual
by SunshineDaisiesWindmills
Summary: He has angered me, like never before. I cannot take him now, but trust me, I will soon enough. No one can defeat me.    He. Is. Mine.
1. Prolouge

**AN: This is inspired by _The Book Thief_, by Markus Zusak. **

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I do not enjoy my job.

That is man's greatest misconception of me. They seem to think that I like what I do; that I want to do it. They think that I find pleasure in it. They think that I am cruel.

That is simply not the case.

My work is _exhausting._ Completely and utterly tiresome. I can't take a vacation. I cannot call in sick. Hell, I can't even take a break! Imagine that: me, taking a break. What havoc that would wreak!

And I am nothing if not gracious. I take the humans away from the heartache and pain of this world. There is no hurt where I take them. There is no feeling at all. It's much better, really. There would be no fatigue. I suppose it'd be a fantastic vacation. If it didn't last forever, that is.

Still, humans are very set in their ways. They do not understand me; therefore, they fear me. While this is not exactly _logical_, reasoning, I suppose it is understandable. However, fearing me is completely useless. I do what I must, that is all there is to it.

When I do change my mind, it is usually for the "benefit" of the human involved. Generally, I am not easily persuaded. However, on days I am feeling particularly weary, if a human puts up much of a struggle, I'll let them stay.

The people to whom I grant this "favor" often believe I am angry with them for evading me.

I am not vengeful or easily angered. I keep no ill will toward any I allow to remain. It is my choice to keep them here, after all. If anything, I am thankful to these people. It only makes my job easier. One less soul to carry, one lighter load upon me. No, the humans who "escape" me do not bother me at all. Let them run wild and free, I think. Let them parade around thinking they have bested me.

I find that thought very humorous. Humans cannot best me. They cannot evade me. They cannot escape me. They cannot fight me. If I am called to them, they remain only if I allow it. But it amuses me that man still believes it possible to fight me. It amuses me that they still find it necessary.

Not all of them do, of course. There are some, the wisest I think, that greet me with open arms. They do not try to fight. They do not try to run. They simply come to me, and allow me to take them to peace.

There are others, however, who do find it necessary to run from me. While on the whole, people running from me does not bother me (it used to, I was terribly offended at first), there are some who go to great lengths to protect themselves from me. This, on the whole, does not bother me either. For the most part, these lengths are useless. There are very few things that can deter me.

The most common of these things is one of few things that actually irritates me. While I could not care less whether one's soul is split (the longer one lives, the less work I have), the process is the one thing that angers me. Nothing riles me up quite like having to do unnecessary work. Murderers are the only humans I take pleasure in taking.

One in particular has _significantly_ added to my workload. Directly and indirectly, he is the cause of many unnecessary deaths, and great fatigue on my part. He who has taken lengths to protect himself from me in ways no human has ever thought of before. He has angered me, like never before. I cannot take him now, but trust me, I will soon enough. No one can defeat me.

He. Is. _Mine._

_

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_**AN: Well, there you have the start to a new story. I wrote it because it's been bugging me for like... a year. And I'm kinda having issues writing chapter nine of Kiss and Tell. I kind of hoped this would help clear my head, and it did. But anyway, I'd really appreciate any feedback you have. Comments, questions, ideas for a better title? Actually, wait on that one. But please, please, please, leave me a review!**

**Sunny**


	2. Merope

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. And I should probably also point out that this is almost entirely inspired by _The Book Thief,_ by Markus Zusak. You should read it. :)**

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Merope

I remember the first time I encountered him. He was not an hour old. I wasn't there for him. I was there for _her._

It was cold, snowy. The night was a busy one for me. I don't pay much store by human events, but there are some I am aware of- the ones that affect me. There are particular days when more people die, usually in accidents or suicides, and these are the days I track. It was one of those nights.

I was overworked and tired. Anyone who fought, even in the slightest- a hesitation or an inclination to cling to the body- I let them stay. The ones who were confused by my presence I took immediately, they had no chance to struggle.

But that was not the case with her.

I found her in an orphanage. She was lying on a couch, while two women scurried about her. They were trying to fend me off, no doubt, though they hadn't the slightest chance. An infant cried near by. It intrigued me, infants always do.

"Hush, hush, Tom," one of the women had picked up the infant was rocking it soothingly, "Your mama's gonna be just fine, just fine."

I stopped. I shouldn't have, I still had much to do. I _always_ have much to do. But I stopped. The infant could not have been either of the scurrying women's. Neither of them were in the state of a recent mother, and upon closer inspection, the infant seemed a newborn.

That left only one option. The sickly gray woman, the woman I was here for, must be the mother. I looked at her closely. She was not attractive. She was young but not youthful. She was simply _gray_.

I looked back at the newborn. It looked nothing like the mother. It was rosy and pink, and so unlike anything I see when I work. I did not know then what he would become. I did not know that eventually he would make my job more difficult than any other. I did not know I was looking at evil. Nothing is certain when one has lived for less than an hour.

I almost left right then, looking at that small bundle of life. I rarely feel guilt, but I did, knowing I had come to take his mother. Perhaps if I had, things would be different. But I couldn't. I can never just leave. I have to try, every time, and new mothers rarely come easily.

I moved again to the woman on the couch. An instinct, and the observation of her completely unkempt appearance made it obvious: life had left her long before I had arrived. I would have let her stay. Had she made even the faintest of efforts to cling to life, I would have left and gone about my business. But she didn't.

Close as I was, she sensed me. Her eyes fluttered open. They were black, the only thing about her that wasn't gray. Immediately the two women rushed to her. One still held her child. She looked at him, for less than a moment I thought I saw something lifelike hiding in her. "I hope he looks like his papa." She muttered.

And then she came to me. I used no force whatsoever. She just came. And so I did my job. I took her, and put her in my load.

I looked again at the now sleeping newborn. I thought at the time I would see him sooner, rather than later. Children without mothers usually come more quickly. I burned the image into my mind. Small, frail, innocent, beautiful. I would never forget it.

I did not know at the time that he would become the bane of my existence.

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**AN: So, I decided to write and post another chapter of each of my two stories, so you'd get a better feel for what they're going to be like. This one still needs another chapter in order to encompass the entirety of my idea, but this is the gist. Like it? Please review!**

**Love, Sunny**


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